And Shepherds We Have Been
by MadreLoca
Summary: Post All Saints Day. The Saints get fan letters in prison, reminding them of what they once were and giving them hope for what they may be once again. Will remain a one-shot.


**Title** – And Shepherds We Have Been

**Rating** – T

**Summery** – The Saints get fan letters in prison, reminding them of what they once were and giving them hope for what they may be once again. Will remain a one-shot.

**Comments** – I wasn't sure what category to give this because it goes from hilarious to very serious in no time flat. In order to put it under T I had to do something with the profanity (can you have BDS without the F word?) So I'm sure you'll get the point if say, all the vowels are missing?

"Here's another one for ya' boys," the guard announced as lugged a large bag over his shoulder into the tv room. By order of the warden, the Saints were to be kept away from the other inmates. Some believed that this was to protect the Irish brothers from the criminals, but others, like the guard who brought them their mail, knew that it was to protect the criminals from the Irish brothers.

"Another letter?" inquired Murphy, looking up from the magazine he had already read a dozen times at least.

The guard slammed the bag down on the round table and looked at Conner. "Another _bag_ of letters," he corrected..

"Fckng right on!" Conner cheered as he opened the bag. Murphy pulled up a chair and dug into the bag with his brother.

Although the guard was required to keep close watch on them while the read their "fan-mail" he stood at the back of the room and let them read in what came as close to privacy as they could have.

"I go first," Conner said as he retrieved a letter at random from the bag that must have contained at least a hundred. He opened the letter grinning, but after scanning it his expression dropped. He then read out loud, "David in Palm Springs writes, 'What the fck gives you guys the right to go around playing God? I hope you end up as someones btch.'"

Murphy laughed. "Fck him. My turn." He glanced over his letter and began to laugh hysterically. "Conner, this is classic! Five-year-old Caitlin in Charleston writes, 'Will you guys please shoot my big brother. He bugs me.'"

"That's fckng adorable. But tell her I can't even shoot my own brother, let alone hers."

Murphy took a break from opening his next letter to flip Conner off. "Your turn, fckr."

"Okay. Chris in Enid writes, 'You guys are kick ass! When they perfect human cloning they should make a thousand of you guys and scatter you all over the world.'"

Murphy scoffed. "Cloning? What a fckng dork. Where the fck is Enid anyway? Who's ever heard of that city?" Murphy waved his next letter. "Clemente in Chihuahua, Mexico writes, 'Creo que-' what the fck?" He held the letter up in the air. "Guard, read this piece of sht, will ya?"

The guard laughed and snatched the letter from Murphy's hand. "Clemente in Chihuahua Mexico writes, 'I think you should send your Mexican home to get rid of the drug cartels.'"

"That's an idea," Conner agreed. Then he sighed. "Too bad we can't be everywhere. We can't be anywhere locked up in this -"

Murphy put up his hand and interrupted, "Conner, shut the fck up and listen to this, this is deep. Michael in Reno writes, 'There's a guy in my city that's been charged twice for messing with little boys. They couldn't convict him the first time because they didn't have enough evidence. The second time they would have had him but he got off with a technicality. Something about chain of custody with evidence or some bullsht like that. But do you want to know the worst part. The SOB lives right across the fckng street from my son's best friend. I estimate there's probably about twenty kids in the sick freak's preferred age range in that neighborhood. That's probably why the bastard chose the place. I didn't know what to do about him, but then I saw you guys on the news. At first I thought it would help me, so I got some better ammo and cleaned my guns. But eventually it just ended up confusing me even more. I just wish I knew what to do.'"

I silence thick enough to cut with a knife filled the room.

"Wow," Murphy finally said. "That _was_ deep."

"So what do we tell him."

"You guys can't tell him anything," the guard answered, "not allowed to reply to any of your fan mail, remember."

The twins muttered an ensemble of random profanity.

"So what do we do, Conner?" Murphy asked

"Nothing we can do." Conner, balled the letter up and threw it across the room. "So much evil out there, man."

"Sometimes I can't help thinking," Murphy wondered, "Is there any less because of us?"

"No," the guard replied, "You guys got a good thing going, but in reality, sorry, you're nothing. If you knock off some scumbag, great. But it ain't gonna be no time at all before some other scumbag comes along and takes his place. You'd have to wipe out half the planet to get rid of it all."

Murphy clenched his fists. "I swear, when we get out of here-"

"You ain't fckng getting out!" the guard interrupted. "Look, you guys did what you did, knocked off some punks, fine. But now it's over. It's time to stop. You're done. I'm sorry, but this is the best place for you now." The guard took the bag off the table. "I'll bring this back later. I'm sick of this right now."

"Maybe he's right," Conner said after a moment of silence when the guard left. "Maybe-"

"Maybe were not changing the fckng world, but we can sure as hell save a lot of innocent people. That's what we started out as. Don't listen to The Roman, don't listen to the guard, don't listen to fcknh David in Palm Springs," Murphy paused for a moment to catch his breath. "Listen to the Lord. Let him sort the bastards out when they get there. We're just speeding along the process."

"You talk like we're still doing it. Like were still the 'Saints' Well we're not, Murph! Were just inmates in a prison, brother. That's it. The guard was right. We're done!" Conner stood up, knocking his chair over. He walked away and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"NO, Conner!" Murphy stood and followed his brother. "We will never be done until God says we're fckng done!" He put his hands on Conner's shoulders and and rested his forehead on his. "This isn't over Conner."

Murphy and Conner took several deep breaths together. Conner grasped his brother's arms.

"Conner," Murphy said with no reply. This isn't over, do you here me?"

"What did you say?"

"Dammit, brother, I'll tell you what I said.

And Shepherds we shall be,"

"Shepherds we have _been_."

Conner prayed louder "And shepherds we _shall be_,"

"For Thee, my Lord, for Thee."

"Power hath descended from thy hand,"

"That our feet may swiftly carry out thy command,"

"So we shall flow a river forth to Thee."

"And teeming with souls it shall ever be."

And together, the brothers crossed their chests and finished the prayer, "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."


End file.
